Them: Your Daughter's a Zombie
by Turkish1
Summary: Angela's sick, Manhattan's a tomb, and millions of zombies crave your flesh. Things cant get any worse, right?


(Solanum is the intellectual property of Max Brooks: Zombie Survival Guide.)

**Your Daughter's a Zombie **

"When hell is full the dead will walk the Earth."

Broadway saw the nurse leap at him, a woman who appeared so perfectly normal just a moment before. She wore the lime green scrubs of a nurse, had a nose ring and a wedding band which flashed with the lackluster illumination, her shoes were still sterilized by paper socks. There was little warning that she was undead until she attacked him, fingers and teeth snapping, ready to tear his throat out.

Surprised! Broadway instinctively raised his arms and inadvertently bounced her off him; sending her over the side of the stairwell.

The Gargoyles rushed to the railing to watch the nurse bounce sickeningly from stairwell to stairwell, until she hit the bottom with a loud CRUNCH on the linoleum floor.

Horrified, they watched her teeth scattered all over the floor as rushing pool of blood spurt after them.

"Oh no!" Broadway cried. "I killed that lady! I didn't mean to! She surprised me!"

"I don't think you could have killed her," Brooklyn said as the nurse slowly pulled herself to her feet, her neck now twisted at a weird angle, her head misshapen like a bruised peach. She began climbing the stairs after them.

"Dragon protect us from evil," Brooklyn whispered.

"Goliath, take me home," Angela starting sobbing; she was hot, like someone had opened an oven door, even Brooklyn and Broadway could feel it.

"Shh," Goliath whispered to her. "Everything will be okay, you'll see."

"Thank goodness the power is still on," Broadway said when they reached Elisa's apartment.

They had let themselves in through the sky window which was always left unlocked for their convenience. Once inside they put Angela on the couch and layered blankets on her body which still alternated from hot to cold. They also discovered that Elisa was gone but Cagney was still there.

"How bad is she," Broadway asked.

"Remember when illness carried off Prince Malcolm?" Lexington asked. "Its like that…"

"Enough!" Broadway cried and marched away to sit miserably on the steps leading into the kitchen; he mourned in helpless silence.

"Its that bad," Lexington continued. "What are we going to do, Goliath?"

Goliath sank to his knees near Angela's head, "try calling an ambulance and then try Elisa's cell phone."

"But…" Lexington began.

"Just try," Goliath continued.

Lexington nodded and stepped away to the unimaginative black phone in the kitchen next to a cork board coated in colorful pins and reminders for Elisa.

"Brooklyn," Goliath said. "Go try the computer, the internet, cell phone, anything and find some help. Have Lexington give you a hand when he's done."

Brooklyn's beak was stained with tears, he tried to wipe them away, sniffed, and rushed out of the room.

"Angela," Goliath gently shook his daughter. "You must stay awake for me."

Angela's eyes opened a sliver as her skin was visibly graying and growing hot as a blow torch. "I love you, my father;" she whispered.

Goliath held her close, tears stinging his eyes and a lump growing in his throat, "do not say goodbye yet, we will find help."

"I know you will," Angela whispered.

"Goliath," Brooklyn said softly.

Reluctantly Goliath tucked Angela in and stepped away.

"Phone lines are down, local TV is out, but satellite and internet are up," Brooklyn reported. "Neither are mentioning anything, maybe we got lucky and the outbreak is localized in the city. That is, lucky in a relative sense."

Goliath nodded, "Lexington, can you try and get a message out to Demona?"

"Goliath," Brooklyn thrust forward. "She's probably causing this!"

"Demona's has shown tenderness toward Angela before," Goliath replied. "She is our only chance."

"I'll see what I can do," Lexington said and stepped out of the room once again.

"Goliath," Brooklyn said. "We might consider tying Angela up."

"We will do no such thing!" Goliath roared and a moment of silence passed afterward. "I'm sorry. Yes, I suppose we have to."

Angela died an hour later.

It was hard to keep up moral with a member of the clan laying motionless on the couch with a WilderTech -10 rated sleeping bag wrapped around her as a shroud; but they were encouraged that there was still hope; as slim of a chance as that was.

From what little that was leaked to the survivalist websites the situation in Manhattan was described as the deceased climbing from the grave and spreading an illness amongst the living. The entire state of New York was effected and the outbreak was spreading fast.

So far the military was able to suppress the news agencies but no one knew how long that would last.

The virus was theorized as some sort of parasite that attacked the brain (in newly turned zombies) destroying the frontal lobe while over stimulating the Limbic System and adrenal gland. This would put the victim into a sort of deep hibernation where the reanimated body would mindlessly search for food.

Food for them was anything living or dead. Eating did little for the current host but through attacks was how the parasite would spread to new hosts… though there was no theory as to why skeletons were rising to attack the living.

This parasite RNA was easily very spread through any sort of cut or ingestion of infected body fluids.

So called 'Zombies' ranged from newly turned to the ancient dead. Flies, vomit, and crows were also suspected of spreading the parasitic illness. The only known way to 'kill' a zombie was to destroy its body, which meant cremation; the body burned for eight hours at a temp of fifteen hundred degrees. It was also theorized that starvation would kill zombies in time, though there was no consensus on how long.

There was hope, at least in the Gargoyle's minds. From all the symptoms present it seemed possible that the zombie outbreak could be caused by magic. With a sorceress they could reverse the outbreak, that was if said sorceress was not causing the plague in the first place.

Lexington put out as many messages on the internet and over TV as he could. To hope Demona would come they had to take a dangerous risk and give their location while they slept, Elisa's apartment.

A red sun rose over a world in turmoil and the Gargoyles prepared for the worst sleep of their lives.

Goliath woke from his stone slumber to find himself and his young warriors wrapped in chains.

He roared and stretched against the chains only to be zapped by electricity.

"Well, Goliath," a laughing, jeering, voice coiled from the shadows. "Looking to make a deal with the devil?"

"Demona," Goliath growled.

Her red eyes were visible in the shadow before she stepped out. She carried a very intimidating particle beam rifle.

"Our daughter is very sick," Goliath growled. "You are her only hope!"

"Yes! You allowed her to be infected with Solanum," Demona said while aiming the rifle at him. "More the reason to kill you."

Goliath closed his eyes, ready for death.

"Better yet," Demona smiled. "I'm going to put you in there with her. I could have an army of Gargoyle Zombies at my command. Come!"

Demona shocked them, cranking up the voltage until they were nearly unconscious. She then grabbed their chains and dragged them into the living room.

"Angela! NO!" Broadway screamed, horrified.

Angela was chained to the couch, but she was alive, sort of.

Her eyes were blazed red as she struggled against the chains, her teeth snapping at them like a rabid dog, bloody froth dripped down her chin.

"I ought to leave you alone with her," Demona hissed. "She would tear all of you apart!"

The other Gargoyles were silent, unable to take in the horror that Angela had become.

"Now you see the price of failure and I expect you to be more careful in the future," Demona said and Goliath's clan was surprised when she snapped the chains holding them, allowing their freedom.

"Demona! You!" Brooklyn began, but Demona went to her daughter. With a few mystical motions Angela stopped her viscous restrained attack and appeared to fall asleep.

Goliath rushed over, "can you help?"

Demona sighed, "I have already cast the same spell that brought Coldstone's souls back to inhabit his reconstructed body. This spell will lock Angela's soul to the mortal coil and reverse the symptoms of Solanum. Problem: I cannot renew Angela's true life force as long as this zombie outbreak continues."

"Are the undead the result of magic?" Goliath asked.

"Yes," Demona asked. "A very powerful sorcerer started this outbreak. If we cannot find and stop this magic user the Earth will become a dead planet. Angela's soul, like every other effected being, will watch helplessly as her body falls away but her life force will be trapped on the mortal plain 'till end of time."

"So, you are going to help us," Goliath asked. "I thought the undead would get rid of the humans for you."

"They will get rid of everything else as well," Demona answered. "It won't help me if the entire Gargoyle race is Zombified."

"Reasonable," Goliath muttered as Demona made a few more gestures toward their daughter.

Angela's eyes fluttered open, they were normal again, "father?"

"Oh Angela! I thought I lost you!" Goliath let his tears flow as he scooped her up and held her. He noticed that she was as cold as a marble slab, but she was back none the less.

"Thank you, father," Angela said after he had let her down. "Mother, you're here too. Did you bring me back?"

"I did," Demona said.

"I feel strange," Angela said.

"Yes, you will feel strange for a while, my love," Demona said. "We have to find and destroy the wizard causing protecting the Solanum parasite before I can completely restore your health."

"Its okay," Goliath said. "Just stay here in the apartment and relax, wait for Elisa to return…"

"No, Goliath we will take her with us," Demona said.

"Excuse us for a moment," Goliath said as he pulled Demona into another room so their conversation would not be heard. Once there he said: "I am not risking her again."

"Goliath," Demona replied. "You are missing one important truth: Our daughter is a zombie. I have put her soul back in her body and she will be reasonable for the most part."

"For the most part," Goliath roared.

"She is a zombie," Demona said. "Until we defeat our enemy magician her body will continue to decay, she will not feel well, in the later stages she will be in constant pain. Zombies eat living flesh because it subsides the pain of decay and she will feel a powerful urge to attack and consume anything she sees. Over all, my spell put the Solanum Parasite that causes this condition into hibernation, but it is still there. It will continue to direct her urges, it will try to put her under its control again. "

"Are you saying our daughter is going to start eating people," Goliath demanded.

"We will have to keep her under constant supervision," Demona said. "If she eats a single living cell she will lose her soul and become a zombie forever."

Goliath roared!

"Shut up, Goliath!" Demona cried. "Zombies are attracted by noise. You just called every zombie on the block."

"I don't care!" Goliath's chest heaved. "We need to get out there and destroy this wizard, NOW!"

"Yes," Demona muttered. "Easier said than done. I have no idea where this magic user is."

Goliath barked and charged out of the room.

In the living room the others had let Angela up and all were taking turns hugging her. "You feel so weird," Lexington said.

"I know, I feel strange as well," Angela answered. "I feel kind of hungry…"

"Angela!" Goliath barked. "Come here."

She did as ordered.

"From now on you do not leave my side," Goliath said.

"But I'm okay," Angela argued.

"No, you're not," Goliath muttered.

"Angela, my dear, can I speak with you," Demona asked, standing outside the other room. Slowly Angela went to her and the two went inside to talk in private.

"Broadway, could you make us breakfast?" Goliath asked.

Broadway put out six plates of eggs and bacon for the clan and they sat down to have breakfast.

"Broadway, put away the sixth share," Goliath said. "From now on, Angela does not eat."

"Why not," Broadway asked.

"Just do as I say," Goliath said.

Slowly, Broadway did as ordered and put the plate back in the fridge. From the other room they could hear Angela crying as she was having a 'talk' with Demona. As they sat Angela streaked out of that room and slammed out of the apartment's door.

Broadway, Lexington, and Brooklyn stood as Demona came into the room after her, she sat before her plate.

"Should we go after her," Lexington demanded of Angela.

"Zombies usually don't attack other zombies," Demona said as she started shoveling egg into her mouth.

"What does that mean," Lexington asked as he and the others sat once again.

"I spat in your eggs, Demona," Broadway muttered.

"So that's the extra ingredient that makes your eggs taste so good," Demona said. "I used to think it was love."

"Stop your quarreling!" Goliath cried. "Just stop it!"

A moment of silence passed before Goliath said: "Demona could you please explain what we are up against."

She explained mostly what they knew already, "…Solanum exists in nature, but it rarely spreads to humans or Gargoyles or any other complex organism. The second largest known outbreak in history produced only a few thousand zombies. Though… Solanum has been suspected in the destruction of the Mayans, which would have involved millions of zombies. This outbreak has been helped by magic, making it much more virulent."

"So, how do we kill a zombie?"

"Destroying its body is the only way," Demona said. "Ignore every movie you've ever seen, if there is so much as a fingertip still intact it will go after living flesh," Demona said. "A single cut to the epidermis is enough to cause infection, and there is no cure aside from magic which is impossible currently because black magic protects the parasite."

"Great," Goliath said. "If we kill this wizard, can we reverse this outbreak?"

"I don't know," Demona said. "It will help halt the spread and I can bring back Angela completely. I don't know. Bringing back millions of zombies takes a lot of time, time we may never have."

Angela burst back in, her face smeary with tears. She sat at the empty chair at the dining table and noticed that there was not a plate set out for her. "Don't I get to eat," she demanded.

Goliath looked to Demona who shook her head.

"No, Angela," Goliath said. "After we rescue Elisa and find the wizard responsible for all of this I will find you the biggest, juiciest, steak you can imagine. It will be like your second birthday." Goliath had to look away, because tears were rolling again.

"I'd like that, I'm so hungry," Angela said. "I could eat a horse."

Just at that moment, as if on cue, the lights flickered and turned off.

"Guess that's the end of the power," Lexington said. "The undead must have found the utility workers at the power station and…"

"Yeah. So what do we do now?"

"Since Demona does not know where the wizard is, we will return to the hospital and find Elisa," Goliath said.

"A great way to commit suicide," Demona interjected.

"Thank you for bringing back Angela's soul," Goliath said to her. "However, you are not sure how to end this. So we are going to find Elisa, find other survivors, and get them out of the city and to safety."

"So be it," Demona muttered.

"We need to formulate a plan, then we will head back," Goliath said.

"Damn," Brooklyn said as he glanced at the battery operated twelve hour clock on the wall, it was already nearing eleven thirty. "Damn midsummer nights."

"We may have to prepare to sleep at another roost tomorrow morning," Goliath said. "Angela, come here."

Angela did as told.

"How are you feeling," Goliath asked.

"I'd feel a lot better if this had never happened," Angela said. "Especially if I wasn't involved in this plan."

Goliath frowned and nodded, "me as well. Me as well." He said. "Until we get there, to your part of the plan, I want you next to me. I also want you to tell me when you are hungry, okay? You understand why you must not eat anything, correct?"

"I understand," Angela said.

"Okay, let's do this," Goliath said.

The entire city was black now, as power had gone out everywhere they could see. According to the cell phone's internet the military still had an excuse, saying that a powerful noreastern had hit New England, cutting off communication.

The Gargoyles already knew the outbreak had gotten outside of the city and only they could stop it.

At Mercy the hospital still seemed deserted, but they knew better. With Demona along they landed on the roof and began searching through the upper levels once again.

They would be glad that they had Demona along because there were Zombies wandering the upper levels and they would have to be neutralized. Demona was their resident zombie expert and coached them on how to do it.

It was hard to tell the difference between the 'Newly Turned' and a survivor, but Demona knew. Actually destroying a new zombie was impossible given their tools. So they had to bind each zombie's hands and put a bag over its head, then find a closet to stuff the thing into and make it so it could not get out. They had to do the same to the nurse who was still haunting the stairwell.

Finally, they came to the last exit onto the ground floor, now it was Angela's turn in this crazy plan. They already knew hundreds of zombies inhabited the bottom floor of the hospital.

"Are we sure Elisa's down here," Angela asked.

"Just go, dear," Demona replied.

"But…" Angela began.

"Don't worry about it," Demona replied. "Just go and come right back."

Angela gulped and turned to the door, she stopped and looked back.

"Just go as fast as you can and come right back," Goliath reminded. "You will be okay."

"Easy for you to say," Angela frowned.

She stepped through and closed the door behind her, taking an extra look to make sure where it was if this all fell apart and she would have to run out. She turned to face her destiny, or fate.

The ground floor was trashed, covered in indescribable filth, probably shit, vomit, and what was left of victims; it was red, green, and black, with molding chunks she preferred not to look at long.

Angela may have been a zombie but she felt fear. He legs shook like rubber as she took one step after another.

At first there were few zombies, an old lady who was still towing her IV drip while picking through the waste on the floor. But soon others began flooding the hallway, dozens, then maybe a hundred. They crowded around her, crushing against her as if she was going to some undead stadium for a zombie baseball game.

She was disgusted, the smell of soil and formaldehyde was making her stomach bubble toward regurgitation. She pushed through the zombies, shoving some over, going from room to room and checking every place a survivor could possibly be hiding.

No one was alive, the hundreds of zombies had already picked over every square inch of the lower floors.

Angela did notice that she was picking up a large following of zombies who were shadowing her every move. None were attacking, or appearing aggressive, but they were following her as if they suspected she was a spy, possibly thinking that there was something not right about this particular winged zombie; that was, if they could still think.

Angela went back to the door the separated her from the stairs where the rest of the clan was still waiting. She did not open the door for fear the others would attack her clan.

"Goliath," Angela cried.

"Yes," Goliath answered.

"I can't come back, they're all following me," Angela said. "I didn't find anything still living."

"Why are they all following you," Goliath asked.

"I don't know," Angela said. "They aren't attacking, just following. I'll try to meet up with you at Elisa's apartment."

Goliath growled, "very well then. I will see you at home within the hour."

Angela gave a short shriek when she turned and found that the Zombies that had been following her had formed a conga line behind her.

None of them reacted, they just stood as if waiting for direction, their faces blank, eyes half lidded and empty.

Angela simply side stepped the ghouls and walked around, the zombies slowly turned to follow.

"Leave me alone," Angela cried and started jogging, shoving other zombies out of her way. These zombies did not groan like they did in the movies, why would they? Oxygen did not pass into their lungs or exhale in order to make sound.

Instead they, like all zombies, turned and began walking in her direction. They did not limp or shamble, well, some of them did. Most were still in decent condition having been dead for only two days, it was hard to tell that some were undead.

Angela rushed outside of the hospital where distant grumblings of thunder threatened.

"God be merciful," Angela whispered.

The air was wet with a threatening storm and the headlights of a car were still on, illuminating the terrifying scene before her.

The courtyard was filled with zombies, hundreds if not a thousand. The walk next to the driveway was also coated with the conventional dead, all half bagged, bloody hair and limbs hanging out like chord wood. Some of the zombies were eating a few of the corpses, they weren't very enthusiastic about it. They were probably getting desperate from hunger and willing to eat anything.

"Oh god," Angela whispered to herself as she took one quivering step after another into the valley of death; her zombie followers continued after her. Thankfully, few others joined this undead game of Simon Says and she thought she could make her way to the street and possibly to safety.

Then she noticed a different kind of Zombie.

Simply said, their walk was purposeful, making them stand out from the others. They appeared motivated and strong, though very erratic and unpredictable, and their eyes still focused, filled with a sort of fierce life force.

At first Angela thought these were survivors, but they walked amongst other zombies without attack. Then she saw one throw aside several other Zombies to get at meat strung bones.

She remembered the Sergeant talking about Zombies that were much stronger than the others, that they were near the Hospital. Angela wondered if these were what he was talking about, some sort of super Zombie.

Careful, Angela continued toward the street.

The vehicle high beams were burning out, turning into amber dots over the crowds of zombies. But she was near the road and safety.

There was another 'super zombie' near the road, picking at what looked at a pile of feces; Angela hoped that she would never sink that low.

The lights were fading so she hoped to get to safety quickly. She tried to step around the remaining super zombie.

The Rage Zombie ignored her at first, continuing to search for corn in the pile of shit before it. But an errant breeze brought her scent into his nasal cavity; it stood and watched her like a lion would a gazelle.

Angela thought she was going to get out of there, the building across the street appeared quiet and would be the perfect launch point into the sky. The Rage Zombie charged in silence, even her advanced Gargoyle ears did not pick up his charging foot falls.

She did not know he was hunting her until his knee drove her to the street.


End file.
